There are some who will say that we were wrong. That we set ourselves above the gods, to aspire as we did. But you know better. You know that what happened was just, was right, was indeed the only way. There is nothing else we could have done. True, we could have faced the consequences, and perhaps we would have been better people. But between you and me, we know that such thinking is fallacious. At best, it is a dangerous misapplication of the discipline of Logic. At worst, it is the cause of all our suffering, all the hate and destruction, all the reasons we had to make a choice in the first place. The Choice, as it has come to be termed. The Choice, just as it was The War, and we are The Fellowship. Twenty of us, bound together by our conviction that we could undo the devastation, by our loss of our families, and, of course, our shared blood, commingled upon the sand at the beach where we met.
That day is of course now recorded in all the histories. It is written in the books at the Library of Saldina, and every child will learn of it in the schools of Torniz. But here we will remind you of it, so that you do not forget. For you must not forget. It is not that we are vain, that we enjoy sharing this story, enjoy hearing our names on others’ lips. It is because on that day, when the Wraiths were first encountered, and the movement against the destruction and devastation first took form, our planet first began to be saved. And that salvation was the ultimate goal of the People, for which reason its beginning (and its end) must forever be remembered. If not for the reason that we must never repeat such mistakes, our History must be remembered for the fact that it is History and we are the History-keepers and History-makers.
That day at the beach we were all gathered for different reasons. Some, like myself, were there because we had received a summons in our dreams. We wandered, anxious and curious, looking around, perhaps wading a bit. Others were simply there, looking for relaxation, escape, or simply fresh air. None of us talked to each other. We simply stood, or sat, or walked, and waited. It was a gloomy day, dark and overcast, with barely a ray of sunshine. None of us thought that the weather was an omen. That sort of thing happens in stories and old wives’ tales, but never in real life.
That perhaps is why it happened. Why the Wraiths picked that day. Because they knew we were unsuspecting. We were unarmed. Perhaps Nerna had a bow, as he is wont to. But as for the rest… well we did what we could, and miraculously it was enough. Somehow, whether from Mola’s ear-shattering shrieks or Sifal’s mind-numbing droning, the Wraiths were eventually wounded enough, or tired enough, or bored enough to leave us alone. And there, on the lonely, windswept beach, bespattered with dark drops of our blood, we looked at each other and swore our vow.
If we break faith with you, may the green earth gape and swallow us, may the grey seas roll in and overwhelm us, may the sky of stars fall on us and crush us out of life forever.
It has kept us these long years. And when we lost some of our comrades, after we wept and burnt the funeral sacrifices, we set out to replace them, to find new bodies, new hearts, and new minds willing to take up the burden. Willing to sacrifice all in the name of a cause they might never see accomplished. As the years went on, and we gained a measure of notoriety, these replacements were both easier and harder to find. There were more applicants, more people aware of us, more volunteers. But it became harder to winnow the chaff from the grain, harder to find who really wanted, who was really willing to sacrifice, and who just wanted the fame and imagined glory.
We had our victories in those beginning years. Small at first, and insignificant next to the endless defeats, but slowly as we accumulated support, as others, not within the Fellowship heard of us and began their own small defiances, our triumphs accumulated, and the Wraiths weakened. It was a slight weakening, like a single grain dropping off an enormous boulder, but it was there.
When we discovered the effects of sound on the Wraiths, how despite their lack of ears, they couldn’t bear dissonance, loud noises, or steady monotones; how even the simplest melody put them into a trance, and the most glorious symphony stopped them dead and overwhelmed their hearts, we pressed our advantage. Everywhere, signs and advertisements went up, calling for musicians, for colicky babies, for used pots and pans. And everywhere, the response was enormous. Workers came pouring in. We had started something.
There are enough tales told of how The War ended. How the Wraiths were destroyed (for they had not the minds to surrender, and thus were simply wiped out), and our planet saved. How later we discovered that music had healing properties as well as destructive, and began to rebuild our planet. How we decided to go beyond restorative measures, and create a vision of beauty as a testament to the powers of the People. There are enough records of the arguments, the fights that broke out, whilst all along, quietly, in the background, the Composers began their work.
Now we are older, wiser perhaps. And we live in a world that has fallen into ruin as, tempted by better offers from other worlds, the Composers left us and let the People to their fate. Still, we have had our brief moment of glory. When visitors came to marvel at our gardens and our buildings, we were proud and triumphant. We have learned humility now, wandering among the broken stones of former cities, fighting the tangled weeds that were once magnificent lawns.
The Choice, the decision whether to allow the departure of the Composers, allow the loss of the Music, and so condemn our home was not an easy one. But ultimately, the Fellowship, and later the People, came to decide that there was nothing else we could do. The Wraiths were first allowed into our home because of our carelessness, our callousness, our utter disregard for the well-being of our citizens, of the People. Such a thing could not be allowed once more. We had sworn never again, and we were bound to our home, and we could not choose otherwise. What must be done must be done, and naught could be changed.
This did not mean there were not arguments. Oh, there were dissenters aplenty, but they were silenced when the Oracles were called. After the sacrifices and incense, and observing the patterns made by the white and yolk of an egg, there was only one answer Bildani could give. And when he gave it there was nothing for it. We must submit, like it or no. And the protestors were silenced.
So we gave up our planet. Gave up our History, our cities, our centuries of memories. The Composers departed for other, richer worlds, and our planet and the People went into decline. We are a proud race, those few of us who are left. A dying culture and a dying people but we have our self-respect, we know our worth. It is for that, perhaps, that the Music has not abandoned us completely. True, we no longer hum and produce royal gardens, nor can a symphony build a palace any longer, but there still remain some small vestiges of power within us. The Composers have left, and in their place we have the Singers. The Singers cannot create, they cannot move mountains as we were once accustomed to, but they have their own small power. It is because of the Singers that we have lasted as long as we have. Because of the Singers that the Library at Saldina has not yet crumbled away into the sea, and that the few, remaining children have their schools in Torniz. For the Singers have a staying power. They support this creaking ship of a civilization, act as braces and supports. With their help, we will last a little longer. With their help, we can send out our colony: those individuals selected for their intelligence and fitness, for their breeding strength and compatibility, for their ability to continue the History, to pass it on to future generations. Thanks to the Singers, none of whom can go, the People may yet survive to record the scrolls of another generation.
Was it the right choice? That is not for me to say. Only time will tell. But was it a Good Choice, was it the best choice? Yes, that much is certain.
